Working as a police officer in Mexico

July 26, 1990, about two o'clock in the afternoon.

Very punctual.

Because the gold-encrusted clock hanging in the Sonora governor’s office had just struck.

The phone on the table rang.

Victor, who had been standing by the window, moved his body and the hand holding the cigarette shook. He saw Casare rushing over at a speed that was very inconsistent with his weight, picked up the phone and answered it.

"Boss, Mr. Jonathan Parnier."

Victor finished the last puff of his cigarette. Don't waste it. He threw the cigarette butt into the ashtray. Really, don't litter.

He walked over and took the phone, "Man, what did your leader say?"

This kind of state-owned unit is complicated and needs to be reported to the leadership.

Wherever I am, I have the final say on my personal business, the creation of a new generation, and the direction of the company. If I want the company to be deregistered, tomorrow I will blast Nuevo Laredo next door.

The company was dissolved that afternoon.

The main thing is efficiency.

"DEA is willing to fully cooperate with the Mexican Drug Enforcement Agency. We will dispatch a 30-person High-Risk Target Apprehension Team (HEAT) to participate in the operation. The Pentagon will provide us with C-130s, and the US military base in Panama will dispatch 2 F-15s to escort us there. Raid on the new judicial building outside Santa Fe, Bogota, the capital of Colombia!”

"This method is very bold!" Victor said with a frown.

He thought of the famous "Operation Entebbe", but the Uganda airport they went to was much worse than Colombia in terms of military capabilities and political environment.

You land in a C-130, and then... the flowers scatter from above?

Damn this, the anti-aircraft machine gun will kill you directly.

"This is the plan developed by the DEA Overseas Operations Division, and it is also the final version."

Victor frowned, NMD!

Do these SBs really think that special operations will definitely succeed?

His face dropped, but his "good" qualities allowed him to resist throwing the microphone.

"What time?"

"The C-130 is at the Hermosillo Airport tonight and will take off until 2 o'clock tomorrow morning. According to the intelligence, the drug traffickers will arrive at the Justice Building at 9 o'clock, and a planned raid is planned at 9:30!"

"Solve the battle within 30 minutes and evacuate through the ground!"

"Have you made arrangements?" Victor asked. Wasn't the DEA Colombian branch killed?

Who is responsible for this?

Jonathan Parnell said in a complicated tone, "The Pentagon asked the CIA to cooperate with us."

I'm afraid that the air will suddenly become quiet.

I almost spit out my old mouth.

Brother, don’t you know what your relationship is with the CIA?

If you were a dog, they would be the dog-fighting team.

If you are a prostitute, the PC will not pay you.

cooperate?

I'll sell it to you tomorrow.

If you do this, you might as well fly two planes and commit suicide.

There is no difference between cooperating with the CIA and committing suicide.

In fact, the DEA is also very helpless. They said that they have two combat teams, the High-Risk Target Apprehension Team (HEAT) and the Snowcap Operations Team (OST), the predecessor of FAST.

but…

This number is very small, and sometimes they have to be on duty overseas. The DEA team has to be on duty overseas. It makes my scalp numb when I hear it.

It is really "generous" to be able to send 30 people this time. Their usual law enforcement is to contact the local police.

Didn’t the Mexican police sell them out like this many times?

Victor laughed angrily, "Do you believe in them or do you believe that I am God? Have you forgotten about Camarena? This is what the CIA sells! If you go out this time, just change it to "send death". If that's the case , the Mexican Drug Enforcement Administration will cancel the operation.”

"The Pentagon has already warned the CIA." Jonathan Panier said hurriedly when he saw that the other party was about to step down.

"I will not risk the CIA's conscience with my police officer's life!"

Listening to the slightly rough breathing on the other side, Victor also knew that he was not feeling well. The DEA grandpa did not love his grandma, just like a left-behind orphan, and his welfare benefits were worse than those of the CIA.

His tone softened slightly, "We will arrange the combat operations. You don't need to tell your leader about this, Jonathan. We have to be responsible for our warriors!"

"Our rigor is the best protection for him."

Every time the Yankees carry out an operation, several departments cooperate with the NMGT. It would be strange if nothing happens here.

The later "Operation Red Wings" was not like this. The organization and coordination were complicated, the command was not unified, and 19 people were killed.

"If you insist on carrying out this unreasonable operation, the Mexican Drug Enforcement Agency will take action on its own..."

Before he finished speaking, Jonathan Panier said, "DEA is only responsible for cooperation."

Isn’t it normal for Party A to overturn Party B’s plan?

"Very good! See you at the Hermosillo airport tonight!"

Victor hung up the phone directly, checked the time, and decisively issued the order, "From now on, the Hermosillo Airport will be blocked and set as a military management zone, allowing the US C-130 to land."

"Kennedy..."

The other person straightened his body and stood up straight.

"You will lead the team tonight!"

"Yes! Director!" Kennedy gave a military salute.

"Go and select 70 EDM members, the most elite ones! This is the first overseas operation of our anti-drug force. Do a good job."

The other party nodded solemnly and went out to make arrangements.

"Help me get a map of Bogota, Santa Fe, the capital of Colombia!"

"Give all the information to the Mexican Joint Special Operations Department and let them come up with a plan!"

Casare hurriedly responded and rushed to get busy.

Victor has long wanted to set up a department similar to the "U.S. Joint Operations Command", and the dispatch of the police force should be left to professionals.

Including combat staff, tactical command, intelligence collection, etc.

In the future, many departments will have to be under his control.

More convenient and faster.

In the future, if there are more territories, the departments will become more bloated. When the power is deeply entrenched, all the unnecessary ones must be abolished as soon as possible.

After preparing to carry out special beheadings of drug dealers, he established this department overnight, following the template of the US military.

Highly reproduced one to one.

Professional matters must be left to professionals.

After Casare and others left, a piece of information that read: "MDIN—Urgent!!" was sent into Victor's office by Jason Bourne, who saw the other party's serious expression.

Victor also frowned.

"17 drug traffickers and warlord organizations?"

"There will be an attack in Tijuana?"

As for getting to this point?

I am not Mao Xiong and Ying Jiang!

They must have screamed when they singled out 17 people. The only person in the world who has accomplished this feat is very low-key now.

"Give the information to Mr. Alejandro and search the entire city!"

This kind of fighting style is becoming more and more like a terrorist organization. These drug dealers...are really NMD's bastards!

Pablo the bastard likes to do these shameless things. On November 27, 1989, Avianca flight AV203 was shot down by drug traffickers near Soacha. This incident resulted in the death of 110 passengers.

This is what he did.

And the bombs used were bombs used by the Spanish "ETA" organization. They are notorious and famous for playing with bombs. Do you want to make another big one in Tijuana?

And then what kind of association was established to celebrate them?

Pressure me to take the position?

Victor was very dissatisfied. I didn’t even start using dirty tricks, but you used them?

Alejandro was based in Tijuana. He was shocked when he received the news and hurriedly contacted James Ryan, the head of the National Guard!

Let him send police officers to conduct a large-scale investigation into Tijuana!

"First check the people with criminal records and the new strangers. I don't want the two of us to be assigned to the newly established prison management department by then."

Victor built 17 prisons in Baja California.

Um…

In his words, to allow drug dealers to change their ways.

But in fact, everyone knows that that is where he used to kill drug dealers. With his head gone, of course he changed his appearance.

Alejandro doesn't want to be a prison guard anymore.

James Ryan: "Yes! Sir, I promise to complete the mission!"

All 6,500 National Guard members stationed in Tijuana were dispatched, knocking on doors in each district and at each house.

In a slum called Tuna Street in District 13.

Residents who were eating heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" the man shouted warily.

"Check the water meter, it's broken."

The man looked at his wife and children, and walked over to open the door in confusion. As soon as he opened the door, he saw three men in police uniforms standing in front of him, and a staff member from the block office stood next to him.

That’s right…

In Tijuana, Victor prioritized the development of "street offices", with government workers on each street, not Mexican civil servants, but full-time personnel from Baja California.

There are offices in more than 30 districts and about 200 streets in the full name, with about 1,000 staff members.

"Police...officer!" The man trembled a little when he saw the policeman, and his legs became weak.

"Sava Preston Santos?" asked the police sergeant leading the group.

The man nodded hurriedly, then raised his hand, "I...I have left the gang. I am now a good man. I no longer charge loan sharks."

He was about to cry as he spoke.

My legs tremble when I see the police. In the previous crackdown on gangsters, most of the gangsters were taken to jail and given a "package". It lasted from 7 to 25 days, and they only did one thing every day, they were beaten!

Each person is given five whips. After the beating, he will copy the "Tijuana Administrative Code" and continue to beat him if he engages in underworld activities.

After coming out, I went to sell fruit.

Brother, it’s not easy to be a boss.

"Officer, Sava has indeed become a good man now. The fruits he sells are very sweet and he is very diligent." Someone from the studio on the street next to him also intervened.

The police sergeant glanced at him and then looked inside the home. His children and wife were there, "Have you seen anything strange recently?"

"What do you mean...weird?"

"The kind that are relatively solitary and don't go out during the day? Or they do things in a sneaky way."

The man frowned and thought for a moment.

"Isn't that what the young couple above is like?" the wife in the room suddenly said.

"Elaborate."

"A week ago, a couple moved upstairs, but they don't go out, they only go out at night, and they only go to the restaurant downstairs for meals. Every night when they go out, they buy a lot of things to take home."

"It's still wrapped in a black package. I don't know what it is. When I say hello to him, he's always indifferent."

The police sergeant immediately became alert and twitched his brows, "Which floor is it?"

"The far left on the third floor!"

"Let's go! Go up and have a look." He led the people and ran upstairs, knocking on a wooden door on the third floor.

No one inside responded.

"Call the door."

"Is there anyone here? Someone who fixes the water meter!"

I called twice but no one answered.

The police sergeant frowned, winked at a police officer, and planned to "unlock" directly, but he just walked to the door.

Suddenly I heard a crash!

A big hole was punched out of the wooden door, and the police officer who was close was injured and fell to the ground.

"Shotgun!!"

"Fire!"

The police sergeant pulled the street worker, who was so frightened that he ran downstairs. The former grabbed the fallen member by his collar and dragged him to the corner.

"1st Regiment 1st Battalion 007 calls for support!"

"1st Regiment 1st Battalion 007 calls for support!"

He pressed hard on the intercom stuck on his shoulder.

Suddenly, as his pupils condensed, he saw a grenade thrown out of the broken hole in the wooden door.

Rolled on the ground twice.

M39 small oval grenade!

"Grenade!"

boom!

He couldn't run away, so he could only lie on the ground and protect his important parts.

Sava heard the noise downstairs and hurriedly closed the door.

"Hide quickly!" He arranged for his wife, then ran into the room and pulled out a French MAB PA-15 pistol from the floor. Although Tijuana asked to hand it over,... who really handed it over?

This is Mexico, there are no guns, there is really no sense of security.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to help!" Sava said, his eyes evasive but firm, "Help the police catch the gangsters, Tijuana's new rules, if you have significant meritorious service, your children can go to key schools!"

Sava took a deep breath.

"I want to live my life again, Sarah, and I don't want our child to be accused of his father's mistakes."

"Since he can choose life, then I will help him!"

Take a gamble!

You are a hero when you win, and you are a hero when you die.